Sunday, July 1, 2012

It used to be so simple.

Killed a \masked\, possibly a \gauntling\ from the way she was handling the sledgehammer she was holding, shot her in the leg, then three times in the chest, I know better than to waste ammunition like this, but still I did. Just finished burying her, shallow grave, her mask.serves as her tombstone. Maybe she will be found by the authorities, maybe a husband and wife will finally receive some closure, or she will never be found, and slowly be consumed by the wildlife...

When I first started running it was simple, there were three "sides", those who couldn't see \gaunt\, those who could and decide to resist, and those on \gaunt\s side and \gaunt\ itself. All those whose served it willingly deserved to die in my eyes. When I saw someone wearing one of its mask's, helping one of its servants, in my eyes they were all the same, all of them deserved to die for aiding such a monster.

Then I started reading the blogs of other people in an attempt to finally attempt to make sense of \gaunt\. At first I attempted to ignore the very existence of those blogs kept by the \masked\. But eventually I began reading them, maybe to see if they would make the same mistakes as some of the /visited/, giving out to much information about themselves, speaking about their locations with complete disregard of their own safety, and proving to myself they were the monsters that I had, in my mind, made them out to be.

And while it is true some were exactly how I had made them out, there were others who weren't anything like them. Some were simply serving it because it allowed those they loved to survive. Not all of them were killers like I had initially thought them to be. Some were simply doing everyday jobs, doing things like normal men and women, except they have to do it with \gaunt\ standing over their heads.

At first when I read of these people I kept telling myself that they were doing was still wrong, they still had the ability to fight, the ability to resist, fight till the end, fight till the last breath, fight till you have nothing left, and then fight some more, nothing was worth working with that, with that, with that fucking thing.

... And then I looked back at all that I have lost, and asked myself, if I was given the chance, would I work for \gaunt\ in exchange for the lives of those that I had lost? Yes, yes I would. but I was never given that choice. Everything was snatched out from under me extremely violently and without notice.

Its just that while in the begging I could take the life of a \masked\ with little to no stains on my conscious, now when I take one of there live I just can't help but think. Whose husband am I killing? whose brother? sister? father? aunt? Daughter? Whose family am I potentially condemning to death because I have cut down their one and only link to \gaunt\.

Fuck that was melodramatic. I hate it when I get like this.

Will try to post my own theory on the creation and origin of \gaunt\, my thoughts on the tulpa theory and my own take on it.

If you've been shot in the leg, chances are you can't stand, let alone continue trying to smash someone's head in. For the love of god, common sense-- people are not indestructible. Now let's stop junking up his comments and wait for him to answer my question himself, yes?